smooth zen stone agains rust colored sand

Wise Eating, Self-Acceptance, Heart Nourishment & Presence

Author Archives: Susan Young

LIFE, UNWOUND: Maybe There’s Hope

LIFE, UNWOUND: Maybe There’s Hope

I write this on Juneteenth in the middle of Pride month. And I see the mess adults are handing the next generations; homophobia, racism, people hurting people. But when I hear the brilliance in children, hope explodes.   I read to my granddaughters. Their naturally occurring sweetness radiates. First, the book, “Peaceful Fights for Equal Rights:”… Continue Reading

Virtual Pride Parade

Virtual Pride Parade

Here’s a post from my son’s Instagram. What a beautiful idea. View this post on Instagram Pride is different this year. Let’s come together to celebrate our intersectionality and remember that PRIDE can be a celebration AND an unstoppable march onward. #bublypartner I’m proud to be partnering with bubly sparkling water for their #UnstoppablePride parade,… Continue Reading

LIFE, UNWOUND: NOW WHAT?

LIFE, UNWOUND: NOW WHAT?

Your teenage daughter says, “I’m pregnant.” Your summer cabin floods. Your son gets jailed for DUI. And then stronger stressors. A virus starts; the world stops. The planet shuts down until public killings and passionate protests open it up. How do we manage? One friend who leans toward worst case scenarios has nightmares. A yogi… Continue Reading

LIFE, UNWOUND: We All Need Scaffolding

LIFE, UNWOUND: We All Need Scaffolding

When my grandchildren arrived, they began a fort-creating project from the stockpiles of forest debris. The nine-year-old twins, Walker and Taylor, started a teepee-ish design and dug deep for scaffolding, “We need a long bough to stand up for the roof.” Five-year-old Brooke balanced gray stones for decoration in tiny corners. Almost eight-year-old Lawson lugged… Continue Reading

LIFE, UNWOUND: WALKING THROUGH PANDEMIC, LABYRINTHINE AS IT IS

LIFE, UNWOUND: WALKING THROUGH PANDEMIC, LABYRINTHINE AS IT IS

Corona virus time feels labyrinthine, the pandemic tangle, like those sacred paths, unfamiliar. Spiraling vulnerability. No clear course through.  I remember my first labyrinth. Two of my dear friends, Jean and Alex, both sixty-three, died days before I stepped –as an experiment —into that web-like design, symbolic of our human journeys. My mind, tortuous with… Continue Reading

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